


Evacuate the dance floor

by azziria



Series: Club can't handle me [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-11
Updated: 2010-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny tries to negotiate the fallout from that night at the club. It doesn't exactly go well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evacuate the dance floor

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to _Club can't handle me_ , which you should probably read first if you haven't already. Concluded in _DJ got us fallin' in love_.

It's been two days since the Meyer bust, and Danny's in big, big trouble.

The thing is, Danny now knows three things that he really, truly wishes he didn't. And, more to the point, he doesn't know what the hell to do with what he knows.

The first thing he knows is that his partner sucks cock like a pro. And that's really _not_ something you should know about your boss, for fuck's sake.

The second thing he knows is that he's never, ever going to be able to look at Steve again without remembering how it good it felt to have Steve McGarrett's mouth on his dick. Which, really, all kinds of awkward _right there_.

But the third thing's the real killer, the thing that's really giving Danny grief. Because the third thing is this: Danny really, really wants it to happen again. Has been jerking off in the shower thinking about it. And those are really not the sort of thoughts that a red-blooded heterosexual guy should be having about his (very) male partner.

OK, so maybe that should be 'red-blooded, _formerly_ heterosexual guy'. Danny learnt a long time ago (thanks to the whole Rachel thing) that denial gets you nowhere, except maybe into even more trouble. So it's not denial, no. Danny is quite prepared (well, OK, Danny is moving towards being 'quite prepared') to accept that maybe he's not as straight as he always thought he was. Danny is categorically _not_ going to have a Big Gay Freakout over the fact that another man sucked his dick and he liked it (Danny is, after all, a fully-fledged grown-up and a twenty-first century man and quite capable of handling new experiences, thank you).

No, what's freaking Danny out is that apparently he's gay for his boss. His partner. _Steve._ And that is so disastrously wrong on so many levels that Danny can't even look at the whole mess straight on.

Just like he can't look at Steve straight on. Which is a problem, given that they're partners, with a close working relationship - or at least a working relationship which involves spending a certain amount of time sitting next to one another in the Camaro, where pretending Steve doesn't exist just isn't an option. However Danny's bigger problem is that, even though he can't look at Steve, he can't help but _see_ Steve. He's not looking, no, but he sees Steve's hands on his gun, wrapped round the steering wheel, clever fingers moving over his laptop keys, and Danny can't help but think about those fingers in his mouth, on his skin, working his cock, and fuck... He has similar problems with the firmness of Steve's pecs under those tight black t-shirts he wears, the swell of his biceps under the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the curve of his ass in those ridiculous cargoes (although as a recently-straight guy, Danny's not sure he's ready for the sort of thoughts he's starting to have about his partner's ass). Danny works hard at Not Thinking About Steve, but then Steve spills his coffee down himself and strips off his shirt (and what is it with him and his aversion to being fully clothed?), and Danny finds himself transfixed by the play of skin across muscle, catches himself wondering what it would be like to run his tongue across Steve’s abs, and then has to spend some quality Personal Time in the men’s room to regain his equilibrium (and really, how teenage is that?).

So, basically, Danny's fucked, and he knows it, and all the more so because Steve is apparently totally oblivious, so far as Danny can tell (although that's not so easy to ascertain when you're doing the whole Not Looking thing). So far as Danny can tell, Steve continues to be just as gung-ho, psychotic, and irritatingly convinced of his own superiority as always, just as if that whole business in the club was just another day at the office (which,and here's a thought that Danny doesn't want to examine too closely, maybe for McGarrett it was - maybe playing the part of a slutty rent boy undercover is part of Steve's 'specialty' - and with that thought, Danny's close to having to pay another visit the men's room, which is just too embarrassing for words).

It does occur to Danny, allbeit briefly, that in the last two days Steve hasn't once bitched about his tie, ridiculed his aversion to seawater, or questioned his nutritional choices, which, yeah, is a bit odd, but Danny puts that down to the success of his McGarrett avoidance strategy (because hey, it's not only Navy SEALs who can handle strategic ops, right?) rather than anything else. In fact, so convinced is he of the stealth of his operations that he's easy prey for the ambush he walks right into. Kono. On a mission.

She appears as if from nowhere and bodychecks him as he turns away from the coffee machine, blocking his escape route and fixing him with a concerned glare. "Spill, Danny. What's he done now?"

"What do you mean?"

"The boss. What's he done now? Because you're acting like a cat on hot bricks around him, you can't even stay in the same room, and he's looking at you like he's a puppy you kicked. What's going on?"

Danny sighs. He should know by now that nothing gets past this team. They're not 5-0 detectives for nothing. "It's nothing, Kono, honestly. It's been a long week, we're just tired." And like she's buying that.

"Bull _shit_ , brah!"

But she's stepping aside and leaving him a free route out, so he takes it, fast.

Steve's been walking around looking like a kicked puppy? This is news to Danny. But then, it's not the sort of thing you exactly notice if you're determinedly Not Looking at someone (because every time you do your brain starts running you scenarios from bad porn movies - or sappy rom coms, which is even more hideously wrong when your love interest is apparently Steve McGarrett). But if Kono's noticed it, then it must be happening. And because Danny doesn't do denial any longer, and because things aren't going to get any better without some sort of intervention, Danny realises that he's going to have to deal with it after all. Which means talking to Steve. And although this isn't a conversation Danny ever wants to have ("Hey, you know when you sucked my dick the other night? Well, I've been having inappropriate feelings about you ever since") he knows that there's no escaping it.

Choosing his moment isn't easy. He doesn't want to do it when Chin and Kono are around (because the last thing he needs are those two as witnesses to this whole complicated fucking mess) and he doesn't want to do it in the car (because if this all goes as badly as he thinks it will he might need to make a quick getaway, and he doesn't fancy the nasty case of road rash that he'll incur if he has to bail while Steve is at the wheel). That leaves waiting until the end of the day, to catch Steve when he's closing up after hours, and by the time that rolls around Danny's nerves are making his gut ache.

Steve's sorting papers at his desk (and if the situation wasn't so dire Danny would savor the sight of McGarrett actually doing some of his own paperwork). He looks up when Danny walks in, face guarded and expression unreadable. "We, uh, need to talk," says Danny, and Steve gets up out of his chair and prowls round the desk to face him. He's tense, wary, holding himself like he's facing some sort of as-yet unclassified threat, and this doesn't augur well, not at all. "What about?" he says, and Christ, is he really that dense?

"About the other night, at the club."

Steve's face stays blank and closed up. "I thought we'd agreed that that was no big deal."

Danny looks away, not knowing how to handle Steve's blankness. "Yeah, well, maybe it's more of a thing than I thought."

"It was a job, Danny. We were undercover. I had no choice..."

And now Danny starts to get mad - because how can Steve be so... so damned inscrutable about this? - and he opens his mouth to make some comment about how _sucking your partner's dick_ isn't exactly common undercover law enforcement practice, but what comes out isn't what he was expecting, isn't what he meant to say. What comes out is "If we're not going to talk about it then I want a transfer, McGarrett. I want to go back to HPD."

And finally, finally he looks Steve in the face, and he's kind of shocked by what he sees. Because Steve is white, white as a sheet under his tan, and his eyes... Danny doesn't know what he's seeing here, but he does know that he's completely out of his depth.

When Steve answers, his voice is low and rough. "OK. If that's what you want, Danny. If that's what you really want, I won't stop you." And with that he's gone, door banging shut behind him, leaving Danny standing alone, abandoned, and utterly confused.

Because, yeah, he'd expected some sort of protest, an argument, hell, even a knock-down fight. Because that's the way they do things, and would have put them back on familiar territory, and might even have cleared the air and gone some way towards dealing with the awkward.

What he'd not expected was capitulation. Because where the fuck does that leave him?


End file.
